Warped Reflections
by windborne
Summary: Ino's mirrors lie on the floor in sharp edged shards, and it all came about because of Sakura. Dark SakuIno, Team10!Love, gore, dark imagery.


Warped Reflections

The mirrors in Ino's apartment are all shattered, because Ino can no longer bear to see her reflection in them. Besides, she feels that the sharp-edged glass shards show her more clearly, and more accurately, than whole mirrors can.

The red ribbon Sakura returned her so many years ago lies hidden, carefully stitched onto the underside of the her violet jacket so that she can keep it near without anyone else knowing. She feels that it's only proper, because her aversion to mirrors began because of Haruno Sakura.

---

The mission was a disaster; there were enemy ninja crawling in the place they'd been sent to infiltrate, and they were soon discovered. Their team consisted of the four rookie kunoichi genins; Sakura, Hinata, Tenten and herself, because Tsunade-sama had thought that kunoichi would be able to sneak in more easily.

They'd been forced away from each other, and they fought ceaselessly. Sakura's fists and feet lashed out with deadly precision and force, her taijutsu attacks alternating with the various ninjutsus and genjutsus in her arsenal. Hinata's hands moved with speed that Ino's eyes couldn't follow, her Byakugan activated and using her standard Jyuuken attacks with the occasional deflective Kaiten, which Neji had insisted she master before leaving for the mission. Tenten was living up to her reputation as expert weapons mistress. The ground around her was littered with ordinary projectile weapons like kunais and the occasional fuuma shuriken. Each of them were doing well so far, considering that they were outnumbed four to one.

Ino knocked her last opponent out with a swift uppercut and a vicious strike to the groin. Sparring with Asuma-sensei on a regular basis had taught her where the weak spots on men were, and she had no qualms taking advantage of that knowledge. Although she had the power to do so, she didn't kill her opponents. She didn't like blood, although Asuma told her repeatedly that a ninja couldn't hope to avoid killing forever. She wanted to preserve her childhood fantasies, where a handsome prince would ride up to her on a beautiful white horse and carry her off into the sunset.

Taking advantage of her brief respite, Ino slowed her breathing, gulping in large lungfuls of fresh air. Glancing around, she quickly took stock of the situation. Hinata was faring the worst; three out of her four opponents remained.

A quick, stealthy movement at the edge of her vision caught her attention. A shinobi crept up behind Sakura, eyes glinting with malice and bloodlust, naginata poised to plunge into her unguarded back.

Moving with an incredible speed born of desperation, Ino flashed across the clearing, catching a momentary glimpse of Sakura's surprised beryl orbs and roseate locks, and plunged the kunai she had instinctively drawn from her weapons pouch into the attacker's shoulder, forcing him to drop the glaive. Blood spurted from the gaping wound as Ino retrieved her dagger and thrust it deep into his abdomen, slashing it open.

Blood oozed out, seeping out of the wound and over the hilt, sliding stickily onto Ino's fingers and dripping through them to form a puddle on the ground. Ino was transfixed by the sight, horrified beyond belief, as the red liquid stained her skirt and blouse. Sakura dropped the last of her opponents with a flurry of blows and kicks which would have done Lee proud.

The ninja's accusing, sightless eyes stared relentlessly at her, and Ino couldn't bear the weight of that gaze anymore. She wasn't Mitarashi Anko, who enjoyed spilling blood, or Kurenai, who did what she had to and went on her way. She was Ino, and she had just completed her first kill. Just as she was about to break down and cry or run away, or anything, Sakura drew her into a tight embrace, closing the eyes of the dead man with one hand, and Ino felt as though the spotlight on her had been turned off.

She burrowed her face into the curve between Sakura's neck and shoulder, and wailed her heart out as Hinata and Tenten finished their opponents off. HInata laid a comforting hand on Ino's shoulder, and there was concern and pity in Tenten's gaze, but Ino didn't care.

After that A-rank mission was declared a resounding failure by Tsunade-sama, Ino limped home alone, battered and heartsick. She smashed the mirrors one by one, refusing to flinch even as the flying glass shards sliced into her skin.

And that was how Shikamaru found her, huddled in the corner of her room, broken and bleeding and crying. He did his best to comfort and reassure her, but there was nothing he could do or say which could convince her that her hands were not stained with blood.

---

When Sakura jumped in through the window, she did not expect to see Ino scrubbing her blouse and skirt frantically, tears running down her face and dripping into the soapy water.

Sakura supported Ino the only way she knew how – she fetched another tub of soapy water, silently took the stained skirt from Ino, and began to wash it briskly. Her own tears mingled with the water, shed not for herself, but for her best friend and her most important person.

At the end of the day, when they poured the dirty water away together, if they had tasted it, they would have found that it was salty, from blood, tears and sweat.

---

Sakura still has whole mirrors in her apartment. Ino knows this, although Sakura takes care to cover them whenever she invites Ino over. But she knows they are there, and that fact makes her uncomfortable. That is why she never visits Sakura on her own initiative. In her own way, Ino is glad that Sakura is okay, because if Sakura cracks, Ino will crumble and take the fall for her. The problem is that Ino isn't sure that she can survive that fall, much less climb back to where she is.

---

Ino knows that it is time to wake from the dream; that there is no prince on a magnificent white horse who will come and save her from it all. But she also knows that there is a cerise-haired kunoichi with beautiful emerald eyes and flaws of her own who is willing to accept her for who she is, not who she appears to be. That is all that keeps Ino clinging to sanity, keeps her from being sucked into the endless darkness which calls her seductively.

---

Ino doesn't use mirrors any longer, but she has teammates who volunteer their help on a regular basis. Team 10 has seen a bedraggled and messy Ino once, and it was enough for them. The next day, and the day after, and the day after, Shikamaru came in through her window to help her with her hair and makeup, and he still does. Ino doesn't ask how Shikamaru knows the art of using cosmetics, Shikamaru doesn't ask why Ino can't look at herself anymore, and their secrets are kept to themselves. When Shikamaru is away on a mission, Chouji comes to assist her. Her team anchors her to reality, and she's thankful to them.

---

Ino can't stand mirrors anymore, because when she looks into one, she sees hands steeped in crimson, face streaked with blood, eyes rimmed in red, and worst of all, she sees the face of the one she slew. The image haunts her. It will not let her go, and deep down, Ino thinks that it's only right, because this is the punishment she deserves.

---

When Ino was younger and cloud-gazing with Shikamaru, she used to see things like flowers, crowns, unicorns or animals. Now, when she looks up at the sky with a shudder, she sees an endless ocean of blood, and feels like she's staring Death in the eye.

---

A/N: Well, I was originally working on the next chapter of Wasurenai na Ai, when plot bunnies popped up in my head and dug their claws into my brain. They forced me to write that Sandcest ficlet I uploaded last night and this. I blame the muse. Don't shoot me! To be honest, the chapter isn't coming along too well, so… yeah.

I'm currently taking summer drabble requests. For more information, go to

http / wind-borne. livejournal. com/ 6897.html #cutid1

Comment there, leave your Fanfiction(dot)net name and your email address. Any pairing is acceptable. Keywords are optional. (Keywords would be preferred, frankly.) I write for a few fandoms. You can see which ones I write for on the Livejournal entry. First 15 people to comment get their drabbles, which will be uploaded in this website.


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